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Chapter 11
My pulse pounded in my ears and I struggled in the darkness until a familiar scent reached my nostrils and I focused in on the face of my captor. With one hand over my mouth and the other to his lips, Will stood over me. I acknowledged his presence with a quick nod and he let me go, both of us blowing out a simultaneous sigh of relief.
“Will, what are you doing here?’ I whispered, trying to keep my excitement in check. I sat up in bed and he settled on the edge beside me. He showed obvious signs of having been in a significant fistfight, his lip swollen and a puffy shiner blooming below his left eye.
“I came to rescue you.”
“But how did you get in?”
“I climbed in your window.”
I wanted to ask how he’d bypassed Dalton’s alarm system and silently made it into a second-story window, but my thoughts scattered when he pulled me into his arms. I considered the possibility that I was dreaming, but rather than resist, I folded my arms around his neck and reveled in the fact that he’d found me—that he had come after me. That he wasn’t still angry with me about letting his father be taken. The moment passed too quickly and Will pushed me back, breathless, his hands on my shoulders.
“We’ve got to get you out of here. Let’s go wake Tyler and Garnet and escape.”
“Escape?” Confusion filled my mind, but before I could explain about Dalton, the man himself burst into the room, a shotgun raised and a menacing glare in his eyes.
Even as I yelled the word, “No!” Will dove to the floor, rolled, and came up at lightning speed in front of Dalton, shoving the barrel of the gun skyward. The blast of the shotgun split the air and plaster rained down from above. The two men scuffled, Will completely outsized by Dalton, but wiry and strong. With Dalton still weak from his earlier injuries, Will’s wolf DNA gave him the advantage and he slammed the butt of the gun into Dalton’s jaw, snapping the taller man’s head back. The two of them crashed into the wall and sent everything on the dresser tumbling to the floor.
“Stop!” I yelled.
By now, the others had trampled into the room, but everyone froze in shock. Maia attempted to jump into the fray, but fists and elbows were flying as the two men battled for control of the weapon and it was clear that anyone who tried to step between them would get hurt. Dalton and Will fought for possession of the shotgun until finally the whirring sound of a Condor’s blades and a bright light shining through the window caused both men to stop. The sleek black aircraft hovered outside, its blades kicking up a cool breeze as the sheer curtains billowed into the room. The speaker-magnified voice of a woman cut through the noise.
“Drop the weapon.” Armed with military grade neutrino blasters, the Condor’s pilot had its sights on Dalton and Will.
Panic rose in my throat. Dalton and Will stared each other down for another few seconds before they lowered the shotgun to the floor together.
The voice came over the speaker again. “Everyone come out with your hands up.”
Dalton shot me a glance, his eyes calculating his next move. Before he could do something risky, I needed him to know that Will was on our side. I stepped between the two men, my hands raised toward the aircraft which focused a blinding beacon on us. Will and Dalton raised their hands. The Condor veered off and lowered to the ground below. As soon as the blades died down, I spun to stop Will or Dalton from taking advantage of the situation and starting up again.
“This is Will, the friend I told you about. He thought I needed rescuing,” I said by way of an introduction. “Will. This is Dalton. He’s a friend of Sam’s.”
Will and Dalton squared off once more. Will let a sly half smile curve his lips and then winced, wiping at the blood that pooled in his mouth. “I guess I should tell you—those are friends of mine.” He tipped his thumb over his shoulder toward the Condor. “Don’t worry. We’re here to help.”
Dalton’s eyes narrowed. He rubbed his swollen jaw. “You pack a wallop for a kid.” Will eyed the man carefully, glanced my way for reassurance and with my nod, he extended a hand. The two shook and we all headed out the door and filed down the stairs to greet whoever was in the Condor, which by now sat on the front lawn, the whirring of its blades silenced.
Will said hello to Garnet with a quick hug and gave Tyler a punch to the shoulder, bringing smiles to both their faces.
“I knew you’d be back.” Garnet’s face glowed.
Will explained quickly as he took the stairs beside me. “I know I said I needed to go after my dad, but I wanted to give Zeph one more chance to leave the Industry. Since I had to go back through Vegas, I figured...” I grabbed his arm, hope springing to the surface. Will shook his head. “I’m sorry, Lily. He wouldn’t come with me. But he did help me free some of the others. I found Mrs. Slate and her kids. I couldn’t leave them behind. And I had to free...”
His words were cut off as we reached the foyer. Dalton glared at his failed security system, switched on the lights, and yanked open the front door.
“Agent Holly Simms,” said the tall woman with short, slicked-back blond hair standing in the doorway in a pilot’s jumpsuit, a hand on her sidearm stunner. I recognized her from meeting her at Industry headquarters in Vegas. Under the halo of the porch light, she looked almost angelic. Her sharp-angled nose and pixie chin gave her an ethereal air, but her steady gaze and the firm set to her lips revealed the tough agent who, until recently, had been the head of the President’s security detail.
I thought Dalton was going to go ballistic at the woman for helping Will infiltrate his house, but instead, his mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. Apparently short on words, he stuck out a hand.
“Name’s Dalton. Mason Dalton.” He stepped back to welcome her in, but she stayed rooted to the porch.
“I’m not alone,” she said. Behind her, stepping out of the Condor, came a petite woman carrying a small child, presumably Vanessa Slate and her son, Benjamin, a toddler with wide blue eyes and a shock of light brown curls. Beside her, a round-faced girl of about eight—Annie, if I recalled correctly—held on tightly to her mother’s hand. I recognized them from pictures I’d seen in the home office of Robert Slate, a friend of Sam’s who had helped us on our journey to Vegas. Since both of his children had been part of the EVO experiments, his family had been stolen from their home. Robert had been beaten to the point of being crippled—tied up and left to bleed—unable to protect his family. Following closely at the girl’s heels, a boy of about twelve with thick glasses and pasty skin appeared in the light.
“This is Baxter.” Agent Simms introduced the young boy and waited for the teenaged girl who stepped off the aircraft next, her sudden presence sending a jolt of adrenaline to my head. The feeling passed as she approached, but I couldn’t help but feel a connection. She was about my age and several months pregnant if the bump under her shirt was any indication. Red haired, with fair, freckled skin and radiant blue eyes, she stepped up onto the porch, glancing past Agent Simms and settling her gaze on me.
We exchanged a moment of study and then she smiled. “I’m Neri. It’s good to finally meet you. Zeph talked about you a lot.”
“Is he all right?” I ignored the twist in my gut telling me the answer was more complicated than yes or no.
Agent Simms interjected. “We’ll tell you everything, but we don’t have much time.”
Dalton cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable with a house full of new visitors, but he held the door as they all entered. Maia led the way to the living room and everyone found seats. Dalton fell into what was obviously his favorite overstuffed chair, the soft leather cracked from age and use. Maia took a place, standing behind him, her arms crossed and her face a blank mask. Tyler and Garnet settled onto a deacon’s bench along one wall, both yawning, and the Slate family huddled in one corner of a sofa, looking shell-shocked by the unfolding events. Baxter situated himself on a second couch which stretched at a right angle to the other, and Neri lowered herself slowly to sit next to him, her awkward state hindering her movement. I stood beside Will, waiting for answers while he nursed his bloody lip. I wanted to reach out and heal him, but with so many people around and the sense of urgency thrumming in the air, it wasn’t the time.
Agent Simms spoke up. “We can’t stay here long. Graves is onto this location. We were able to get ahead of him but my intel says they know exactly where you are.”
“How’d you get past my security system?” Dalton gave the woman a steely glare, his jaw already showing signs of bruising from Will’s assault.
“Did you not hear what I said?” Agent Simms returned the look. “Graves and his men will be here any minute.”
“Then you’d better hurry up and answer my question.”
Holly Simms inhaled sharply and blew out a breath. I couldn’t tell if she was about to give into rage or if she was practicing patience as if dealing with a toddler. “Fine. Baxter has the ability to disable anything electronic. Is that answer enough?”
Dalton leaned forward and studied Baxter for a moment. “For real?”
The boy kept his gaze cast down, but nodded. “I can interrupt the current flow to anything with a power source. On the downside, electrical storms and I don’t get along.” He snorted and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, darting glances around the room.
Dalton frowned and stood. “You kids get your things. We need to be ready to go in less than five.” Tyler and Garnet rose and backed out of the room, uncertain if they were still taking orders from Dalton. I nodded for them to do as he said.
“Grab my bag too,” I added. Garnet nodded and she and Tyler tore up the stairs.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you take these kids anywhere.” Agent Simms, who had mirrored Dalton’s movements, faced off with him in the center of the room.
“That’s not up to you.” Closing the distance, Dalton stopped a foot away, meeting her gaze with steely resolve. “What exactly are you doing here?”
“I’m here to take Lily and her friends home.”
Dalton’s eyes shifted back and forth, studying the woman’s features. His eyes narrowed. “Well, I’d say you wasted your time. I was asked by her uncle to take care of her, and that’s what I’ll do.”
“Since I take orders directly from the President, I believe my orders trump yours.” She stood toe to toe and nose to nose with Dalton.
“The President’s orders don’t mean much to me anymore,” countered Dalton, his shoulders broadening.
Simms didn’t back down. “You don’t understand. There have been developments...”
“What kind of developments?” I jumped into the conversation. “Is it Sam?”
Will stepped in beside me and grabbed my hand. “We can talk about this later.” His gaze shot between Simms and Dalton, challenging both of them to avoid the topic all together. “We really need to get out of here.” He tugged my hand to pull me away from the scene but I resisted.
“Stop trying to protect me, Will. I need to know now.” I spun back to Agent Simms, whose eyes went from cool to empathetic in a flash. She turned to face me, glanced back at Dalton with a dark look, and then met my gaze. “I was hoping not to have to do this now...but I’m afraid Malevich ordered a drone strike on Stanton before he left for Chicago. I heard from a contact inside his security detail—we don’t have any word on survivors. I’m sorry, Miss Carmichael.”
The world beneath me shifted. My blood turned to ice. “No...no...Sam...he would have escaped. Nora and Maggie...?” My eyes darted to each of their faces looking for reassurance, but I found only sympathetic expressions. Will put an arm around me just as my knees buckled. “I’m too late to save them?” The crack in my voice gave away every fear and doubt that crashed into my mind. “Stanton is...gone?”
Just in time to hear the tragic news, Tyler and Garnet appeared, both breathless and weighed down with our bags. Their shocked expressions gave way to horror and Garnet cried out.
“What about my dad?”
“Reports on casualties are not confirmed.”
Before we pummeled her with more questions, Agent Simms put up her hands. “I have no other information. I’m here to take you home so we can find out what happened and help if we can. Others are mobilizing from various regions—rescue organizations the President set up to aid in such emergencies. They operate separately from the New Government, so the Industry has no influence over them. They’re already on the ground, but I haven’t had an update since this morning.” Turning her attention to Dalton, she squared her shoulders. “Are you going to let me take these kids with me before Graves shows, or are we going to waste our time arguing?”
Jaw twitching, Dalton ground out, “I have my orders and I’m sticking to them.” His gaze met mine. “Do you trust me, or do you want to go with this...agent?” He spit out the word as if Agent Simms were a water moccasin. “We have nothing but her word that plans have changed, and she could just as easily hand all of you back over to the Industry.” Gray eyes filled with confidence gave me a spurt of hope. “I know Sam,” he continued. “If what she says is true and Stanton was destroyed, he got out. The last thing he’d want is you in the middle of the chaos there. Besides,” he added with a spark in his eye, “he’s probably half way to the rendezvous point by now.”
My insides screamed to go to Stanton—to find my uncle and help any survivors—but my haunting dream came back in vivid clarity. I knew it was already too late to help them. My only hope was that some had escaped. Before I made a decision, Tyler’s face went pale.
“Graves is here!”